Aaron watched Giles’s demonstration intently. “Okay.”
Giles held up his rosin. “You need to keep the hair rosined, but not too much. You’ll know when you need to add some because it’s scratchy. But when you get brand-new rosin, the first thing you do is score it with a quarter or your fingernail because otherwise it’ll never transfer to the hair.” He passed the bow over to Aaron and picked up the violin. “On the violin itself, we have a lot of parts. For the most basic, we have the body—sometimes called the belly—where the sound resonates, and the neck and fingerboard, where you work the strings. Above the neck is the scroll and pegbox, with the big tuning pegs. You don’t use the tuning pegs unless you’re putting on a new string or something is seriously out of whack. The fine tuners here at the bottom are what you’ll primarily use to put your violin in tune.” He plucked a few strings and winced. “Yeah, like right now.”
Aaron became very interested. “What are the four notes again? Those first two sound like G and D.”
“G, D, A, E.” Giles plucked them one by one and winked at Aaron. “God, but you’ve got a good ear.”
He wanted to purr when he saw the way the compliment made Aaron beam. Compliment him more often.
“For the last part of the strings, we have the tailpiece, which is what holds the bottom part of the strings on, and the bridge, which holds them away from the belly. These two swirly bits are the F holes, which is where the sound actually comes out. But to make that happen you need the sound post, which is this little dowel inside by the treble end of the bridge. It’s support but also what transfers the sound between the plates and gives us tone. It’s sometimes called the âme, which is French for soul, because despite its boring appearance, it really is the soul of the instrument.” He faltered, realizing how much excessive information he was giving. “Sorry if I’m babbling.”
“No, not at all. This is so interesting.” Aaron bit his lip. “May—may I hold it?”
Pleasure washed over Giles, and he passed it over. “Of course.”
Aaron accepted the violin with a reverence that was almost as erotic as his lip-biting. “It’s beautiful. Did you name it?”
Giles rubbed at his neck, embarrassed. “Henrietta. After my grade school violin teacher. She died the year my parents bought it for me. It felt right.”
“That’s so sweet.” He held Henrietta in front of him, giving her an admiring look. “Should I call her a she, or it?”
“I don’t think she cares much about pronouns, just don’t wind her strings too tight or crack her bridge.” Giles finished the rest of the parts demonstration with Henrietta in Aaron’s lap. “This plastic part is the chin rest, though I have a shoulder rest we’ll attach in a second. Now you know all the parts of the violin. Are you ready to hold a bow?”
“Ready,” Aaron declared with a smile.
Giles showed him how to attach the shoulder rest and positioned the violin on Aaron’s left shoulder. He had to hold the bow himself before he could accurately explain how Aaron should place his fingers. “You make a smiley face with your thumb, stretch your index finger out, put your middle finger on the frog, ring finger on the eyelet. Your pinky stands on the bow.”
Aaron laughed. “My thumb makes a what now?”
Giles crooked his thumb. “A smiley. That’s what Henrietta told me to call it.”
Aaron grinned. “A smiley it is.”
Giles tuned the instrument, then taught Aaron how to bow, when to use his wrist and when to lift his arm. While it wasn’t exactly necessary Giles touch Aaron’s arm to help him move it correctly, it certainly didn’t hurt his education.
He didn’t complain, either, when Giles lingered a little longer than the demonstration warranted.
Aaron was, of course, a natural. He winced when his first attempt at bowing elicited a screech, but it wasn’t long before he knew how to produce a crisp, clear sound.
“Good job,” Giles told him. “You’ll do well with fingering too. Kids use tapes when they learn, but with your ear you won’t take long to pick it up.”
“It’s so clear.” Aaron pulled a long, strong A, then an E. “This has to be more Henrietta than me.”
“She’s not a cheap date, no. She was my birthday, Christmas, and—” He stopped himself from saying get-out-of-the-hospital-for-the-second-time present. “She was expensive, so she has great sound. But the player still has to bring it, or she won’t sing.”
Aaron played a few more notes, riding the four strings up and down. “I love orchestras. Strings make me shiver.” He stole a shy glance at Giles. “When you play the double bass for Salvo, I get chills every time.”
Never, ever would Giles have guessed he could get so hard talking violin. “I’m a lot better on Henrietta.”
Aaron’s cheeks flushed with color. “I’d love to hear you play sometime.”
Sweet baby Jesus. Giles wanted to put Henrietta on the chair and push Aaron to the floor. “I’ll play for you right now. But let’s give you a chance to shine first. How about I teach you a song?”
From Aaron’s reaction, Giles would have thought he’d offered to give him a million dollars. “Can I learn ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’?”
“Too tricky for your first attempt. I was thinking more ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star’. It only uses two strings, and it has the benefit of teaching you a lot of fingering at the same time.”
This lesson involved more touching as Giles helped Aaron apply his fingers to the board, showing him the right pressure and position. As he’d anticipated, Aaron had no trouble keeping his notes on pitch, and Giles only had to explain the very basics before Aaron taught himself the song. When he finished, he laughed and flourished his bow, flush with pride.
Giles clapped and grinned. “Well done, maestro.”
“Thanks. That was fun.” Aaron passed Henrietta and the bow over. “Let’s hear the real deal now, though.”
Giles tucked Henrietta to his shoulder, his fingers sliding easily into position on the bow. “What do you want to hear?”
“Anything.” Aaron settled into his chair. “Pop, classical—anything. Though—if you know anything with the plinky-plinky sound?” He mimed plunking strings on an imaginary violin.
“Pizzicato? Sure.” He plucked a few arpeggios, stomach flipping at the way it made Aaron smile. “Now the question is, do you want something classical and official, or do you want me to make you giggle when I play ‘TiK ToK’ pizzicato?”
Aaron burst out laughing. “Shut up. Seriously?”
Giles grinned. “I’ll consider that a request for Ke$ha.”
He launched into the song, and Aaron laughed so hard he fell sideways. But when Giles started to lower his violin, Aaron waved him on as he wiped his eyes and rose, heading to the piano. “Keep going. I have an idea.”
Giles started the song over, and goddamn if Aaron didn’t pound out harmony on the piano like the music was in front of him. Not wanting to appear a slouch, Giles stepped up his game, adding some flourishes whenever he could. Aaron kept playing, never missing so much as a note.
“Now switch,” Giles called out as they cleared the bridge. “You pizz on the piano, and I’ll bow the harmony.”
Aaron frowned, but it was a stare of concentration. “There’s no such thing on the piano. How do I—?” Then he grinned. “Got it. Go.”
Giles tried to keep his brain three steps ahead of his fingers, working out the harmonics before he played them, wanting both accuracy and elegance, because of course Aaron brought both. Aaron’s “pizzicato” was staccato beats in the upper register, sometimes with harmony added, sometimes not. Sweating, Giles did his best to keep up, a task difficult partly because of the notes, partly because it took everything in him not to break out in giggles. Though as soon as they finished the song with a ridiculous flourish, they both bust out laughing.
“That was a
wesome.” Aaron wiped at his eyes. “Oh, shit—I want to do more.”
“What about ‘100 Years’? It gives good pizz. Do you know it?”
Aaron stared at him, his look unreadable.
Giles faltered. Was he pissed? Annoyed? “I— Sorry—”
He stopped as Aaron grinned and rolled his eyes before his fingers moved over the opening bars with the precision of someone who’d long ago memorized the song.
Oh. The look had been incredulity, Aaron insulted at the idea he didn’t know the song.
Grinning, Giles joined in, playing pizzicato through the first verse, but as Aaron filled out his harmony, Giles started bowing.
When they hit the chorus, Aaron began to sing.
Giles didn’t know why Aaron’s vocals hit him so hard—it wasn’t because he crushed on him, though that didn’t help anything. It wasn’t so much that Aaron’s voice was some kind of perfect harmonic, though it was. A million people had great voices, though.
Not many opened a vein quite like Aaron.
Giles stopped worrying about looking good and focused on the spaces the piano couldn’t cover, never overpowering Aaron’s voice but rather lifting him up, easing the spaces between the notes so when he sang, he soared even higher. Giles forgot about making mistakes, forgot about everything in the world that wasn’t playing with Aaron.
When the song ended, they held still, gazes locked, hands frozen on their instruments.
Aaron broke the silence, his voice soft and heavy. “‘With or Without You’?”
Giles lifted his bow and glided gently into the lead.
The magic of the moment let them play like gods. Giles rose through the song as Aaron put in a gentle baseline, just enough color to finish things off. Aaron took up the vocal melody, soft and sweet, his pretty tenor resting oh so tenderly on each note. He turned the song into a lullaby, ignoring all bait to belt, which only made the vocals more powerful. It was so beautiful Giles had to close his eyes.
I love him. His heart swelled and spilled over as they rounded into the final chorus. I’m so in love with him I can’t even ask him out. I want to lie at his feet, want to smooth out all the wrinkles in his life and make everything okay.
I can’t ever tell him, because if I’m wrong, if somehow he doesn’t want me, my life would be over. I’d rather have this than nothing.
Someone as wonderful as him can’t want someone as awkward as me. There’s just no way. There’s no fucking way that’s real, no matter how much I want it to be.
Aaron closed off the song with a chord—with a soft pull on Giles’s bow, it was done.
The music hung in the air between them.
Giles lowered his instrument. At the piano Aaron let his fingers fall from the keys.
They stared at each other, breathing hard but silent, neither wanting to break the spell.
He’s waiting for you to ask him out.
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.
The door to the rehearsal hall opened. Giles and Aaron startled, turning away from each other as if they’d been caught kissing, not staring. It was one of the other quartets coming in to practice, and the members greeted them both warmly, apologizing if they were interrupting.
“No problem,” Aaron told them. But he cast one last longing glance at Giles.
I can’t. Except there was nothing, nothing in the world Giles would rather do.
Aaron thought he’d go crazy if Giles didn’t ask him out, which he told Walter every time they spoke.
“I think he might like me. He looks at me a lot. Not glaring, either. Sometimes I catch him staring at me, and he blushes. That has to be good, right?”
“I suspect it’s very good.” Walter’s voice indicated subtle amusement.
“He doesn’t ask me out, though. I’ve tried twice, and all I get is violin lessons. Which are fun, but I jerk off after which is kind of weird. I wish he would ask me out. But maybe he’s not into me and I’m an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot.”
“So you think he might be into me? Why doesn’t he ask me out? What do I do?”
“You don’t do anything.”
“What?” Alone in his room, Aaron paced back and forth across the carpet. “He’s into me and I shouldn’t do anything? Why not?”
“Because I believe we had a conversation not long ago about going slow.”
Aaron made a frustrated sound through his nose. “This isn’t slow, this is glacial. Walter, he’s not a jerk. I really like him. I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot is all.”
“I think you’re right. Which is why you should continue to be his friend a little longer and make sure that misunderstanding doesn’t happen again. You can jerk off every hour if you need to. Take your time and do this right.”
Aaron was seriously tired of masturbating, and it wasn’t every hour, but it was a hell of a lot. “It’s not just about getting off. I want to be with him. And I don’t want to do this wrong. Waiting feels wrong.”
“You aren’t doing anything wrong. Especially by waiting.”
“What if he loses interest?”
“Then he wasn’t worth your time to begin with.”
Aaron flopped onto his bed. “I’m going crazy not knowing how to handle this. Plus it’s about to be break. I won’t see him for weeks.”
“I thought you lived in the same town? Or will you be at your dad’s?”
That was the one bright point on Aaron’s horizon. “No, he’s stuck in California for the holidays. I won’t see him until February.”
“Excellent. Call Giles while you’re in Oak Grove and invite him to coffee.”
“I can’t do that.” Aaron’s whole chest seized at the idea. “Who am I kidding? I’m going to fuck this up. If I’m not doing something wrong right now, I’ll fuck up soon.”
“You’re less likely to do something wrong if you aren’t paralyzed by worry that you will.” Kelly murmured something in the background, and Walter responded with a muted, “Shut up,” followed by a soft kiss Aaron could hear through the phone.
Aaron wrenched himself out of jealousy and onto the issue at hand. “Shouldn’t I tell him? Or kiss him? Or something?”
“When it’s right. I suspect the confession will happen naturally on its own, to be honest. When it does, though, I suggest you stick with kissing to start.”
“What?”
Walter chuckled, but before he could reply to Aaron, once again, Kelly murmured in the background. This time Aaron couldn’t mistake the suggestive tone.
Walter spoke softly to his fiancé, then returned to the phone. “I mean it, hunbun. I think you should not have sex with Giles right away, even if you start necking tomorrow. Hear me out,” he said when Aaron started to object. “Sex is easy. Any moron can stick his dick in something or rub one out. Relationships? They’re hard, really hard, and sex does not simplify the calculus. It’s way too easy to slide into sex and pretend it’s what the relationship is, to let that be what you use to connect to someone instead of actually forging a bond. If you use sex as a cheat with someone you care for, it’s a horrible mess.”
Much as Aaron hated to hear it, the words made a kind of sense. “How am I supposed to know when we should move forward, though? What if I ask to wait and that makes him—?”
“Don’t, baby. Don’t. Don’t go there. You need to stop worrying about making people mad for a lot of reasons, but if you honestly want to date Giles, you can’t deny yourself what you need because you worry other people won’t be happy with your choices. If you tell Giles you need to take things slow and he gets angry, then honey, you need to run from him.”
“I don’t want to run. I want to be with him. I want it so bad I hurt.”
When Walter spoke, his voice was so tender it was arresting. “Aaron, I was in love with Kelly for a month before I so much as
kissed him.”
That threw Aaron. “But you were roommates.”
“Yes. And I kept putting on the brakes even after we started officially seeing each other. Finally Kelly got annoyed and seduced me out of my caution—except I don’t regret a moment of the delay. Do you know how easily I used to fall into bed with guys, or how often I didn’t bother with a bed? When people matter to you, they deserve your time and attention. That’s how you keep from screwing things up. You don’t see what you want and go at it in a fever pitch. You slow down, you make yourself ask the difficult questions and do the hard things, and you make sure it’s real, that you’re not simply hoping it’s authentic because you truly want it to be.”
“What if I find out it isn’t?”
“Then you let yourself be sad, you lick your wounds, and you let friends support you until you’re ready to try looking again.”
Aaron swallowed and shut his eyes. “It would be a lot easier to not try at all.”
“True. I’ve used the tactic. But speaking as one who got lucky enough to have my right person hunt me down, not trying sucks in comparison. I’d go through a mountain range to keep what I’ve found in Kelly.” There were more murmurings, and when Walter spoke again, his voice was husky. “Go practice your let’s-take-this-slow speech, and call or text me later.”
“Okay,” Aaron said, not excited about the prospect at all.
Walter made a muffled grunt, gasped and fumbled the phone. “I gotta go. No sex, and call me later.”
Aaron put the phone down on the bed beside him, glaring at it and thinking it was pretty damn rude to tell someone to put the brakes on their potential relationship as you hung up to get laid.
Chapter Fifteen
Fever Pitch Page 16
